


Day 2 - Magnetised Words

by Pippitypopadoo



Series: StoryADay May 2014 [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippitypopadoo/pseuds/Pippitypopadoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the heart of family, it is still love. Words are not enough to describe it, but sometimes, they are enough.</p><p>---<br/>I aimed for a short, maybe 500 word thing and it became 3000 I don't frigging know</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 2 - Magnetised Words

They no longer talk much, except for when they had to. The house was quiet and sad, but that was all they had known for quite a while now. Then, he asked her to teach him English. _I want to learn the alphabet, and words._ She was surprised, but agreed and went out that night to buy a set of magnetic alphabets. She could not afford the wooden blocks, and the plastic set was on sale, but she could make do with that. When she returned, he had long gone to sleep, so she carefully used a knife to create nicks on the surface of the top of all the alphabets.

The next day, she sat him down and placed the letters on the table. She explained that she made scratches on the top of the letters so that he could orientate them more easily, and then started to show him the first five letters. As she placed the 'A' into his hands, she noticed that they were trembling. She did not comment on it.

 _This is A_ , she said.

 _A_ , he whispered to himself, rubbing the scratches on the surface, then running his hands all over the plastic. He then repeated it, over and over, finger tracing the letter.

 _Yes, A,_ she said gently. He placed it in his lap. _This here is B._ And that went on till C, and he touched each of them fervently, like they were his precious keys to another world.

They stopped, went for lunch, and then continued till F. She quizzed him, making him choose the correct plastic letter, then tracing the alphabet itself in the air. After she declared that to be that for the day, she placed the letters in separate boxes. This box is for you, she said, if you want to revise them. He clutched the box to his lap.

As she stood up, he reached for her hand.

 _Thank you,_ he said, and smiled. It had been so long since he smiled like that. Her eyes prickled and her heart ached for something lost and someone missed. She blinked, patted his hand.

_You are welcome._

He nodded once, and shuffled back to his room. She looked at his retreating back, shook her head to clear her thoughts, and went to prepare dinner.

The meal that night, they did not speak, but still she thought that it was one of the best dinners she'd had in a long time.

\-----

And so that went on, with her teaching him his letters during weekends. When she got home from work, she would be too tired to teach and he never asked her to. They'd eat their dinner in silence, then went back to their own rooms. Sometimes, she thought that she heard the clinking of plastic against plastic. It made her smile.

Soon, they progressed on to words and pronunciation. 'You' and 'she' and 'he', 'tree' and 'bird' and 'house'. That took longer to stick. He got frustrated many times, and she learnt to keep her annoyance in check after she realised it was not her he was frustrated with, but himself. You're at a late start, of course it'll take time, she said, hand on his shoulder.

 _But you can't teach an old dog new tricks, eh?_ He laughed bitterly. _Look at me!_

_You'll get there. Let's try again._

And eventually, he did get there. It took months, a few slammed tables, gritting of teeth and irritated huffs, but he soon got the hang of how letter combined to form new sounds. It gave him trouble, sometimes, the 'e' and 'ee' and 'ea' and he hated homonyms with a passion that made her giggle, but the easier words, he could guess most of the spelling sometimes. When he learnt to spell his name, he smiled throughout the day, pleased.

She didn't remember deriving so much joy from another's happiness before.

\-----

The next day, she had to take over her friend's Sunday shift because her friend's son had fallen quite quite ill. It was unexpected, the disappointment she realised she felt when her friend pleaded to her over the phone and she knew she could not refuse.

"You owe me for this one, I had plans!" she had said over the phone, frowning into the wall. And she did. Their English lessons had become a strange bonding activity that she had come to look forward to and enjoy. The air seemed lighter now, the house brighter. It was easier to breathe.

She had not even realise that the mood had been so heavy over all this time.

They might have holed up in their own world for too long now.

She lingered outside his door.

 _Is it time to learn more words?_ he asked, getting ready to get up. He was smiling. He offered her his smiles more often lately. She liked that.

 _I'm sorry..._ she ducked her head. He paused in his motion. _A friend's son is sick, she can't go in today._

 _Ah_ , he said. He settled back down, fingers playing with a letter. _Can't be helped then, children are important. You go on ahead._

_I..._

_It's fine, it's fine._

She swallowed. _I'll try to be back soon. The boss might let me go earlier since I'm not supposed to work on weekends anyway,_ she tried.

 _Okay_. He smiled again, but it was a smile given for empty promises and wishful thinking.

She turned to leave, but he called out again. _Will you turn on the radio for me? I think... I might want to listen to an English channel._

 _Sure, that's a, that's a great idea!_ She hurried to move the portable radio from the kitchen. It used to be a light blue radio when they'd first move in; it was now a faded grey that had a chipped corner from a child's tantrum gone wrong. Ancient as it was, it was still functioning and she set it on his bedside table. With a few turns on the knob, it reached a station playing English oldies. He might recognised a few tunes from it. _Here you go. I have to go now, take care, all right?_

 _Mmm, come home soon,_ he mumbled absently. She blinked. 'Come home soon.' It's been a long while since she'd heard that phrase.

 _Okay_ , she said softly, but she didn't think he heard. He had closed his eyes, listening to the husky crooning voice of a woman. She watched him for a moment, then slipped away quietly.

That night, when she was back home, he said excitedly, _I recognised some of the words on the radio! I heard 'happy' and 'sing'! But the announcer spoke really fast._

 _Maybe you can speak as fast as him one day,_ she laughed.

He was silent for a while. _Can you teach me sentences?_

It was probably about time she did that. _Of course._

\-----

She taught him how to string words together, so that they created meaning. 'I am Shang' was the first sentence she taught him, spelling it out with the plastic letters on the table. He learnt that 'am' comes after 'I' and 'she/he is' but 'they are'.

_It's not easy, is it? Quite different from our language._

_Why must they make it so complicated?_ he complained.

_I don't know, I'm not smart enough to understand that. Every culture has it's quirks, I suppose._

\-----

Shang became very attached to the radio in his room. Even if he did not learn English very quickly, she came to learn that he still had a sharp mind, an intelligence that came from a life of poverty and learning to watch out for yourself, because there weren't many people who had your back.

 _You're home? Come, let me show you something,_ he said urgently once she reached home. Curious, she entered his room and saw letters neatly laid on his bed.

Words. They were words. T-H-A-N-G-K-Y-O-U

Oh. _Oh._

 _Did I get it right?_ Shang was playing with the corner of a blanket, his face hopeful.

 _Almost. There's no N,_ she corrected gently.

 _Ah_. His shoulders slumped and his face fell.

_How... How did you learn this? I haven't..._

_I heard it on the radio many times. Guessed it probably meant what I thought it meant, it's what the Chinese stations sometimes say after someone calls into the show._

_That was... Wow, I'm very impressed, that's smart!_

He shrugged. _I got it wrong though._ But there was no hiding the traces of his pleased smile, reminsicent of the one when he learnt to spell his name.

 _It's just a letter, that was still great._ She held his hand. "Thank you."

"Thang kyou," he tried.

 _No, I meant. Thank you for this. "_ I am happy."

He shrugged, but squeezed her hand. "How... read? This."

"Tha-nk you," she enunciated slowly.

"Tha-nk... Thank, you?"

_Try again?_

"Thank... You."

"You are welcome?"

_What's that?_

_That's what you say in reply to_ 'thank you'. _It means you're welcome._

 _Ah._ He nodded. "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

He beamed.

\-----

She got a letter one day, a letter she had been waiting for for so long. _He finally wrote to us!_ She cried the second she stepped into the house, running into Shang’s room. _There were some complications, but he’s alive! He’s safe. He might be able to return next year._ Oh, thank the heavens, he’s alive! She knelt by his bed, clasping his hands. Shang’s mouth dropped open, then roared with laughter.

_What a day! That’s terrific, what did that rascal say?_

She summarised it, then read it aloud in it’s original English, then again, because this was the first letter they had gotten in almost a year and it needed to other reason other than that.

When they remembered that it was the Winter Solstice Festival that day, it made things all the better. That night, she bought more groceries than she usually did and made dumplings and Shang’s favourite steamed fish, with balls of glutinous rice with peanut filling for dessert.

They had not had such a feast in a long time.

\-----

On her way home one day, near her house, she passed a rubbish dump and found a toy she’d seen her colleague’s children use. It seemed like some people had left their unwanted things by the dump, but the toy was lying against the wall and seemed quite clean. She picked it up. All she had to do was give it a thorough wipe, maybe disinfect it, and it’s be good as new to use.

\-----

That weekend, Shang got a new present. _What’s this?_ he asked curiously.

_It’s a toy that some children use to write on, it’s a magnetic board. It’s spoilt and you can’t write on it anymore, but you can still stick the letter on the board! If you have the board on your lap, the letters won’t fall off._

_Oh, nice!_ “Thank you!” He seemed to have grown attached to those two words, but she had nothing to complain about.

\-----

He got better with forming sentences, and  learnt how to make small talk: "Hello, I am Shang, what is your name?" and "How are you? I am fine. The weather is nice today."

They started to converse in short English sentences whenever they could. It became like a game, and she would tease him often, but it was fun. English was a way to get by, back in the days, to get work and earn an income. But now, it started to become fun.

He still wrote out sentences on his board though. _You know the basics now, you don’t really have to do that anymore_ … she had said one day.

_Because it’s no use to me, you mean?_

_I- I didn’t mean that- I’m sorry, that was rude._ She lowered her head, chastised.

_No, it’s all right, It might not really be of use, but...It might. Who knows?_

And that was that.

\-----

It was spring, and the Chinese New Year came and went. The house was filled with merry New Year songs, and they celebrated it with more cheer than previous years, with prayers in their minds and hope in their hearts.

\-----

It was her birthday in March and she barely remembered it anymore. Then, he presented to her the board in his hands, with the words “You are pretty” on it. _Happy birthday!_

She laughed. _I am not pretty. How would you know?_ she teased.

 _No, no. You have beauty. In here_. He held a hand over his heart. _You have a beautiful and kind heart._

She faltered and bit her lips, blinking hard to hold back the tears but they spilled down her cheeks anyway. _I… Dad…_

 _Besides, my son married you, and I’m sure he’s got good taste,_ Shang laughed. She smiled at that, even as she couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking or her voice from hitching. _There, there_ , he soothed, patting her shoulder. They enjoyed a companionable silence as she tried to compose herself, then she giggled. _But, that’s not really how you write it._

 _It’s not?_ He scratched his head.

 _Not, not really… But it sounds cheesy actually, like_ “You have a kind heart”.

 _Hmm. Yeah, that sounds better._ He fiddled with the letters on the board, then added. _But it’s true, you know. My wife up in heavens is probably laughing at how dependent I am, but I am fortunate to have a good daughter-in-law like you. She would probably have loved you._

_R… really?_

_She would! And she’d probably hit me in the head and scold me for being such a troublesome old man, that woman._ He laughed fondly. _Ah, I miss her. And that stupid husband of yours, stupid boy._

 _Me too_ , she said quietly.

_But he’s coming home soon, hmm?_

_Yes, yes he is._ She smiled.

\-------------------------------

A young man stepped off the bus, bag slung over his shoulder and drank in the sight of the house at the end of the road, with the off-white walls, in a neighbourhood in between the city and the slums. It’s been a long while, but he wrote them a letter before he had called before he left the base and he knew they would be expecting him.

He strode forward, then faster. He could not help the smile that probably made him look crazy to the neighbours. but he’d soothe neighbourly ties later. There was only one thing on his mind right now.

A woman was standing in the distance, hanging up the laundry on a clothesline tied from the window to the tree by the road, just like she always did. “Ma!” he shouted, and ran to her, scarcely waiting for her to drop her laundry basket to hug her, swinging her around once before setting her down

“My son! My son, oh, you’re home, you’re finally home.” She cried out in delight, hands holding his face in her hands and tears already forming in her eyes. Her face was much more haggard, there were lines he did not remember seeing in her foreheads and at the edges of her eyes, but she was still as beautiful as he had remembered. She pulled her into his embrace, hands rubbing his back. “Oh, my dear child, you are back and safe, thank the gods and thank the heavens.” He held her, feeling his shoulder starting to get damp but _hell_ , why in the world would he even care? She was so much thinner too, he realised.

“Look at how gaunt you are!” She exclaimed, suddenly pulling back. “Come in, come in, rest and I’ll prepare you something to eat. _Dad? Dad! Shang Jie is back!_ Go, go see your grandfather, he has missed you so much.”

He smiled, kissed her cheek then bounded in. “ _Grandpa_?” There was an old man sitting on the couch, walking cane by his side.

“ _Shang Jie? You stupid, idiot boy! You rascal, how dare you make your grandfather so worried! Come here, you stupid boy! Don’t make your blind grandfather chase after you!”_

 _“Oh grandfather, it’s good to see you too. Hale and hearty as ever, huh?”_ He grinned and threw himself down beside him, hugging him hard. “ _I’m sorry, the mission… we faced some problems. But we were lucky, a good friend got us out, we’re all safe and sound_. _”_

 _“Idiot rascal, you’ve always been a lucky boy, like your father.”_ Shang thumped him on his back hard. _“Always making me and your mother worried too. Why did you go and learn that from your dad?”_

He grinned at his grandfather easily. _“Maybe we got that from you?”_

_“Hah! You’ve got a mouth on you. I won’t give you your present now.”_

_“Aww, come on!”_

_“That’s what you get for crossing your grandfather, Shang Jie_ ,” his mother said, coming in from the kitchen.

_“Please?”_

_“So you still got some manners eh? Ah well.”_

Shang Jie laughed as his grandfather pulled something out from behind his back. What was all the cloak and daggers for? His mother came to stand beside him, hand on his shoulder. “He did it by himself, you know?” she said proudly.

“Did what?” he asked, as Shang held out a board in his general direction. Shang Jie took it carefully, then flipped it over. On it, there were alphabet letters stuck on it. W-E-L-C-O…

“Welcome home. my grandson.” His grandfather read it out. Except that when he left to join the army, his grandfather knew nothing about English and he also couldn’t possibly have read it out because his grandfather was _blind_ and that meant, that could only mean-

“He learnt English just for you, you know. He missed you that much,” his mother said gently.

“Oi,” Shang scowled. “Who miss this stupid boy? I enjoy learning!” But his hand was patting Shang Jie's leg, as if reassuring himself that he was there, solid and present.

He gave a small laugh of disbelief, looking between his mother and grandfather. “Wow, I...” Shang Jie shook his head. “Thanks. Thank you. I… I’m home now. I won’t leave anymore.”

They smiled. “Welcome home.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I started doing this on the bus and then did continued at home at it's at 3000 words and I went past midnight so I both like this and hate it because I MISSED DEADLINEEE but anw:
> 
> 1\. The setting of this story is actually, I don't know. But you can pretend it's like, earlier US or something, in between modern day and when Chinese immigrants first went there. But yeah, the truth is that I thought of it as somewhere sliiiightly similar, but not really because I did not have the research to back it up. A parallel universe, if it bugs you that much.
> 
> 2\. I hope you could infer, but Shang is actually an immigrant who spoke only Chinese at the start of the story. All the italics, those were conversations in Chinese. His daughter-in-law is fluent in both Chinese and English at the start. Please do some hand-wavey stuff about learning English as a second-language. I just kind of went with the flow and hopefully I gave enough time for Shang to learn a decent amount of simple sentences by the end of this story, but it only occurred to me to do some actual research when I reached the 2000 word mark, so I apologise for that. I did some guesswork from my (admittedly very limited) experience teaching some kids who are learning English as a second-language, as well as from what I know/observed about some people around me.
> 
> 3\. Also, I realised around the middle of writing it that I left Shang, a blind old man, alone at home a lot. Can we pretend that the neighbours, kind souls that they are, check on him from time to time? Yes, let's. I'm sure that his daughter-in-law has made their house as safe for him as possible too.
> 
> 4\. And another thing, the Winter Solstice Festival is a real thing in Chinese culture, also known as the Dongzhi Festival. It is of significance here, because that is the day when families come together for reunion dinners and on that day, Shang and his daughter-in-law got the letter from Shang Jie that he is alive and would be going home.
> 
> 5\. I feel sad that I never got a name for the daughter-in-law, but I couldn't decide on it. Nothing feels suitable at the time of writing.
> 
> 6\. I thought it would be a good idea to keep the relationship between Shang and his daughter-in-law ambiguous at the start. I hope it came out good. Because I realise that some of the interactions may seem rather strange if you did not know they were related as such. Maybe they are clearer now that you know that? Or maybe I did not write it well enough. If so, do give me some feedback!


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